‘Your nobility only lives for the good of your slaves.’
‘Here, boy! So fair a lady requires a fair messenger. You shall enter on my service at once, and carry this letter to Pelagia. Why?—why do you not come and take it?’
‘To Pelagia?’ gasped the youth. ‘In the theatre? Publicly? Venus Anadyomene?’
‘Yes, fool! Were you, too, drunk last night after all?’
‘She is my sister!’
‘Well, and what of that? Not that I believe you, you villain! So!’ said Orestes, who comprehended the matter in an instant. ‘Apparitors!’
The door opened, and the guard appeared.
‘Here is a good boy who is inclined to make a fool of himself. Keep him out of harm’s way for a few days. But don’t hurt him; for, after all, he saved my life yesterday, when you scoundrels ran away.’
And, without further ado, the hapless youth was collared, and led down a vaulted passage into the guard-room, amid the jeers of the guard, who seemed only to owe him a grudge for his yesterday’s prowess, and showed great alacrity in fitting him with a heavy set of irons; which done, he was thrust head foremost into a cell of the prison, locked in and left to his meditations.